


Because Hate is a Kind of Passion

by zmethos



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26878078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zmethos/pseuds/zmethos
Summary: Ciel attempts to push Sebastian's buttons as a way to determine the depth of the demon's feelings.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Comments: 6
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short, exploratory piece that I may expand later. Nothing explicit.

“Sebastian, give me your shirt.”

If he’d been hoping for a reaction, he was disappointed. The only response was, “The one I am wearing, or should I fetch a fresh one?”

Ciel snorted. “Don’t waste time.”

“Of course, young master.” Sebastian slipped off his tailcoat and laid it neatly over the back of a chair. His vest followed, then his tie. At last he unbuttoned his shirt and, as Ciel held out his arms, slipped it onto his master and swiftly rebuttoned it.

Ciel laid back on his pillow and waited for the bedclothes to be pulled into place over him. The shirt was still warm and smelled of musk and cinnamon and something like wood smoke. “I don’t like the smell of wood burning.”

His butler made no reply, and after a minute Ciel realized Sebastian had draped his displaced clothing over one arm, picked up the candelabra, and appeared about to depart.

“I did not dismiss you.”

“There is something else you require?”

“Stay,” Ciel commanded.

It had become something of a game, really. Was there a limit to Sebastian’s patience? More interestingly, Ciel wondered whether he had it within him to stop himself.

As ever, the butler showed no outward emotion. He returned the candelabra to the table, the clothing to the chair, then went back to the bedroom door and stood there.

“What are you doing?” Ciel asked, irritated with himself at the obvious emotion in his voice. If it was a game, he was losing by showing he cared even a little.

“Staying.”

“You plan to stand there all night?”

“Is there somewhere else you would prefer for me to stand?”

Ciel sat up. “I meant for you to lay down.”

Sebastian blinked once, twice. Ciel watched his features closely for anything—a hint of a smile or some sign of dissatisfaction. But there was nothing. Instead, Sebastian dropped to the floor to lay in front of the door.

“What are you, a dog?” Ciel asked, his temper rising. “You are being willfully ignorant!”

Ah, there. That slight narrowing of the eyes. Ciel could not be sure whether it was being compared to a dog or having his job performance so impugned that had caused the reaction, but it was _something_.

Almost immediately, however, the butler’s expression fell back into its habitually neutral lines. He rose and walked to the side of the bed. For a moment, Ciel thought Sebastian intended to stand there instead as a way to goad him. Then he realized Sebastian was merely removing his shoes.

“Take off your gloves, too,” Ciel ordered.

Did he imagine the brief hesitation before Sebastian complied?

The gloves joined the pile of clothing on the chair.

Ciel considered his half-clothed servant. How far did he want to take this? If Sebastian had shown even a hint of interest, Ciel might have escalated the situation. But did he really want to have to order this creature to love him?

Ah, demons couldn’t love anyway. Not really.

Ciel flopped back onto his pillow and turned his back. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

He felt the bed dip as Sebastian lay down. Ciel fought the urge to look over his shoulder to try and read the demon’s face again, but he did pull the eyepatch off his eye and toss it off the side of the bed.

Behind him, Sebastian clucked in disapproval. Other than that, there was no sound, no motion.

“If you don’t get under the blankets, you’ll get cold,” Ciel said.

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He waited for an argument or even just an exasperated sigh, but there was nothing. The bedclothes shifted then resettled. Ciel felt the warmth at his back and wondered which way Sebastian was facing. Still, he didn’t look. What would knowing tell him? If Sebastian faced him, did it mean he cared? If he turned his back…

Ciel glanced back. He couldn’t help it.

Sebastian lay perfectly still on his back, eyes closed, face impassive. Like a corpse.

“You should sleep, young master,” the butler said without opening his eyes.

“Tell me one of your boring stories and I will.”

He was rewarded with a faint curl of Sebastian’s lips. Amusement was better than indifference. Condescension, even, would be more acceptable than nothing at all. Though the demon was tied to him and followed his orders, Ciel constantly had to remind himself that the creature was truly selfish and only really looking out for his own interests. But even if Sebastian only desired Ciel’s soul in the basest way, at least Ciel could feel wanted. If not loved.

No, love had died with his family.

Now the most Ciel could hope for was respect. Though he suspected Sebastian’s outward deference was only for show. And due to their contract.

While part of Ciel wanted to finish his mission of vengeance and be done, he did sometimes hope it might take a few more years. He would like to meet Sebastian as a man, to feel more equal. Though Ciel held all the power in their relationship, he was acutely aware of still being perceived as a child. He would like to have a more commanding presence.

He thought of his father, how esteemed he had been. That would have been Ciel’s natural inheritance—not only the name, the house, the position with the Queen, but that respect as well. If only he were old enough to truly claim it. If only he looked the part.

Ciel glanced again at Sebastian’s profile. “Do you always look that way?”

“You wish to hear the boring story of my human form?”

“The sound of your voice will surely put me to sleep.”

The lips uncurled from their smile. For a moment Ciel thought Sebastian would defy him by refusing to speak, but then with a small sigh, the butler said, “Demons have a natural, true form. They have, in the world, a preferred form. But it can be adapted.”

Ciel was intrigued despite himself. “When I first saw you, that was your preferred form?”

“I did not want to frighten my prey by showing my true self.”

“It’s not as though I could have run away,” said Ciel. He was unable to keep the bitterness from his tone.

“That is true. But you would not have been as likely to deal with me, either. You were frightened enough already. There was no benefit to me in adding to that.”

There it was. The demon had taken notice of him, wanted his soul, and taken logical steps to secure it. Well, as a businessman, Ciel could at least admire it. And, though he would never have said it aloud, he could also be grateful for the opportunity to exact revenge.

“And your current form?” Ciel asked.

“I extracted it from your own thoughts, albeit imperfectly. Do you dislike it?”

It felt like a leading question. Ciel opted not to answer. Instead, he said, “Indeed, a boring story.” He turned away. “You are not to leave without permission. That is an order.”

“…Yes, my lord.”

Movement, and Ciel stiffened and drew his shoulders up defensively. But the only thing to happen was the light, little by little, reducing to darkness.

Sebastian had blown out the candles.

Ciel forced himself to relax. Closed his eyes. Focused on the even breathing behind him. Sebastian did not require sleep and would most likely remain alert, even if he appeared to be oblivious. But Ciel could not say he felt entirely safe. Sebastian was loyal because he had no other choice, and Ciel trusted him with his life, but he could never trust the butler’s motivations.

“Why?” Ciel asked, and his voice sounded small and childish in his own ears. “Why did you come when I called?”

No answer.

Ciel rolled over, prepared to demand a response. He stopped when he saw Sebastian’s eyes were open and, instead of the usual blank expression, the demon looked… sad.

“Don’t make that face!” Ciel snapped. He did not want to admit it frightened him to see it. Anger, frustration, disapproval, even hatred—any of those would have sufficed. Sorrow, however… Ciel could not allow for it.

Sebastian turned his head and immediately put on an indulgent smile, the one he offered guests. “Are you having trouble sleeping, young master?”

Ciel huffed. “Don’t be false with me, either.”

The smile disappeared, replaced with a sharp and knowing look. If claws could become an expression, it would be this one, Ciel thought. “As you say, young master.”

“If you did not have to do what I say…” Ciel’s voice trailed as he was unsure how to ask what he wanted to know. Sometimes he imagined the things he could make Sebastian do and how enjoyable they might be. But he always came back to the thought that, if Sebastian only did them because he had to and did not also enjoy them, Ciel also would not be able to fully find pleasure in them either.

He rephrased his question. “What do you enjoy for your own sake?”

Sebastian blinked, seemingly surprised. But his complacent expression quickly returned. “Nothing that is advisable for children. Except cats.”

Ciel sighed. “Idiot. And I have come a long way from innocence,” he added, “as you well know.” When Sebastian failed to respond, Ciel said, “You don’t like cooking then? Or maintaining the manor?”

“I pride myself on these things. Perhaps it is more accurate to say I enjoy knowing I do them well. But I do not enjoy them for what they are. Anything one does well, one is likely to take pleasure in one’s talents.”

“You were not that good a butler at first,” said Ciel.

“My natural talents… and uses… lie elsewhere,” Sebastian conceded. “But my service does meet your expectations now, I hope.”

“Mmm.” Ciel had more questions, more observations, things he wanted to ask and say, but his eyelids were growing heavy.

“Enough talking now, young master. You must sleep.”

***  
It was not a good dream, but none of them ever were.

“Young master, please let me go.”

“If I let you go, I will have nothing…”

“You will certainly not have your morning tea, but I doubt you will lose everything.”

“Eh?” The dream he had been trying to escape began to evaporate, and Ciel became aware of something smooth and hard, like stone—but warmer. A smell of spices. He also realized his hand was caught in something…

He opened his eyes.

Sebastian’s mock innocent expression greeted him.

“I…” Ciel had to consciously open the fingers that had become fisted in his butler’s hair.

“I must go before—”

A pounding at the door was followed by Mey-Rin’s panicked voice: “Young master! Mr. Sebastian is missing!”

“Shut up,” Ciel growled before Sebastian could say anything or even make a face. Then he shouted, “I sent him on an errand! He will be back soon!”

“Yes, young master… Sorry to disturb you…” The soft pad of feet grew distant, but not before Ciel heard a distinct mutter of, “Could have left a note.”

“I have your permission to leave?” Sebastian asked.

“Yes.” He sat up and watched his butler extract himself from the bed. Sebastian looked refreshed, with not a hair out of place despite Ciel’s previous grip on it. Even Sebastian’s trousers still looked tidy.

As he had the night before, Sebastian took up his discarded clothing and the now unlit candelabra. “I will return with your tea and to help you dress.”

“Of course.” As if he needed to be told. It was the same routine every morning. “Sebastian…”

The butler stopped at the door and waited.

“Do you hate me?” Hate, after all, was a kind of passion, wasn’t it? Demons couldn’t love, but there were other avenues that came to the same end.

“Not at all, young master.” And he smiled slightly in a way that suggested he knew exactly what Ciel had been seeking—and was, perhaps, a bit amused to deny him. Well, Ciel, supposed, if one had almost no power in a situation, even small victories felt good.

“Please give me just a few minutes to make myself presentable,” Sebastian went on. He opened the door, turned to give Ciel a bow, then exited, closing the door quietly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a little more... Not sure if I'll keep playing with it, though.

Sebastian strode swiftly down the hall, his thoughts occupied as much by all his necessary duties as by all the questions _Bocchan_ had thrown at him the night before. Though the young master sometimes did ask a sly question now and then, it seemed a floodgate was near to breaking in the boy. Well, he was at a most demonic age. That time between youth and adulthood was like fruit at its peak, and if _Bocchan_ lost focus on his mission, he might over-ripen before Sebastian could best enjoy him.

Besides, Sebastian was hungry.

“M-Mr. Sebastian!”

So lost in thought had he been, he nearly walked directly into Finny.

“Your shirt…” Finny said.

Sebastian glanced down at his bare chest and offered up his best smile. “Yes, there was an incident. I am on my way to remedy the situation. Here.” He thrust the candelabra at Finny. “Distribute the used candles amongst yourselves and make sure fresh ones are in place for tonight.”

“Y-yes sir!” Finny grabbed the candlestick with gusto and took off at a run. Sebastian decided not to scold him with a reminder that proper servants always walked with dignity, even when in a hurry. After all, he had not engaged "proper" servants. And Finny was better suited to the outdoors.

Sebastian made his way down to his quarters. He saw to the needs of his cats, indulging in just a few minutes of cuddles before changing into fresh clothing. Then he went to gather the tea cart.

_A child in which love has been burned away and hate has filled every cavity… delicious…_ But there were a few blemishes on the otherwise perfect apple. Loyalty, for one thing. Compassion, for another. And a continued yearning for new love, from family or servants or the Crown itself. Such feelings would turn the taste of him bitter. Better to remind _Bocchan_ that he needed nothing and no one. Loneliness, after all, added a nice spice.

He arrived at the young master’s door, knocked, and was answered with a disdainful grunt. Taking it as an invitation, Sebastian entered with the tea. While it steeped, he made quick work of dressing his master for the day. As he gathered the discarded sleep shirt, the boy said, “After it’s clean, bring it back. It’s mine now. Like you.”

Power was a lovely flavor, too.

Ah, to be cultivating this feast…

The hourglass ran to empty and Sebastian poured the tea. “What would you like for breakfast, young master?”

“Cake.”

“If you wish for something sweet—”

“Cake. Is this Earl Grey?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” _Bocchan_ handed back the cup, the tea untried. “I’m tired of Earl Grey. Bring something different with my cake.”

Sebastian gave a short bow. “You will eat in the dining room?”

“My study. Bring the newspaper.” He tried but was unsuccessful in hiding a yawn.

“Didn’t you sleep well, young master?”

The boy flashed a glare. “I believe you have work to do, so get on with it.”

With another bow, Sebastian pushed the cart out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

To need someone, Ciel reflected, was a bothersome thing. How much easier to be able to do manage on one’s own.

And to want someone, well, that was exponentially worse. To be able to live without someone but not want to… To have to live without someone and wish the circumstances were different…

To wish one still had parents, a family…

There was no way back to that. He could only go forward. And though there were people he cared about, his mission took priority. And to complete it, he needed—

A tap came on his study door and it swung open to reveal Sebastian with the cart.

“I hope you’ve brought me better tea,” Ciel said.

Sebastian handed him the _Gazette_. “An Assam this morning, young master, as you seem to require something strong.”

Ciel sniffed but opted not to deny it. Some battles were not worth picking up a sword. Others, however…

“You brought me cake?” asked Ciel.

The demon did not bother to disguise his insubordinate expression as he lifted the lid of the salver. “Bread, jam, and butter. Also eggs, for protein.”

“That is not what I asked for.”

“It is what you shall have. If you eat it all, you may have cake with your tea.”

“I am in charge,” Ciel reminded him.

“And it is my duty to see you stay fit to meet your goals,” said Sebastian. “Protecting you goes beyond fighting those who seek to harm you.”  
Ciel squinted, as if to do so would enable him to see his butler more clearly. Did Sebastian truly care about his wellbeing? If so, was it only because of the anticipated reward of devouring Ciel’s soul? Or perhaps Sebastian chose to deny him cake simply because he could, and to do so exercised the minute bit of power in his possession.

 _He didn’t need me. He still doesn’t, not really. But he_ wants _me._

Appeased by this thought, Ciel said, “Fine. But it had better be chocolate.”

“Yes, young master.” The tea and breakfast were laid out with precision on the desk and Sebastian retreated with the cart.


	4. Chapter 4

Sebastian found life in human form somewhat soothing—at least on average days. The household ran smoothly by design, and he stayed busy enough not to be bored. _Bocchan_ was in a mood, but he was always in a mood; Sebastian would have been more concerned if his master had been cheerful. Cheerful, after all, was far too close to happy for the demon’s purposes. If the young master were to decide he was content with his life…

Keeping _Bocchan_ dissatisfied, even if only with tea, meant progress in the right direction.

And keeping the boy dependent on him suited Sebastian as well. He wanted the boy’s soul, but he did not _need_ it. Souls were, after all, abundantly available. How much better to be needed, incapable of being discarded, even if the person who needs you hates you for it.

The contract was merely a way to pass the time, to make things interesting. _Bocchan_ ’s soul was like an intricate dish—the dough must be kneaded, formed, seasoned, baked slowly and just right. Sebastian could have continued eating up whomever he had the fancy to catch, but doing so was neither amusing nor particularly appetizing. Older meat was tougher. Young meat, on the other hand…

Tea cart returned, Sebastian set the day in motion: Finny to gather fresh herbs, Mey-Rin to change the linens on the master’s bed, and Baldroy anywhere but in the kitchen so that Sebastian could concentrate on the _petit gâteau chocolat_. Tanaka remained, quietly sipping his tea, but Sebastian perceived him to be little more than wallpaper.

The bell rang at precisely the moment Sebastian anticipated it would, and just as he slipped the dessert into the oven. Pausing to collect the post, Sebastian rushed upstairs to clear _Bocchan_ ’s breakfast. Despite his promptness, he knew _Bocchan_ would be dissatisfied with his speed. The brat was never entirely happy, but again, that was in part by design. Humans, Sebastian noticed, seldom enjoyed happiness in any case. They did not trust it because they knew it did not last. Anger, frustration envy—all these things were as omnipresent as Sebastian’s own kind. But unlike demons, emotions could not be escaped, not entirely. They devoured souls slowly, painfully. To be eaten by a demon would be a relief by comparison.

Sebastian entered the study, prepared to swap the stack of letters for dirty dishes. The dishes were there, on the desk, but the room appeared empty.

_Appeared._

“Young master?” Sebastian queried. No answer. The butler sighed. “You must realize I can smell you.”

The boy popped up from behind the desk. Had he been under it?

“You really are no fun,” Ciel declared.

Sebastian stared. “Fun?” Where had this caprice come from?

Ciel laughed. “There. Better. I’d rather see you surprised than smug. Still, hide and seek might have been a lark. Too bad you see—or sniff—through everything. You really are a dog.”

 _On a leash._ Sebastian’s brow twitched, but he kept his tone amenable. “If you have a craving for games, I can arrange some amusements for you.”

Ciel waved a dismissive hand. “It was only a freak. I was bored.” He eyed the mail in Sebastian’s hand. “Though it looks as if I won’t be now.”

Sebastian handed over the post and collected the dishes. He left quietly, still wondering. After so many centuries among them, he felt sure he understood humans—for the most part. That they could still surprise him… Well, only _that_ one, really. _That_ one had surprised him from the start.


	5. Chapter 5

Ciel sighed and flipped through the invitations and business correspondence. Nothing very interesting. The look on Sebastian’s face, though! That _had_ been interesting. Every now and then, he was still able to confuse the demon by behaving erratically.

Good.

And it was comforting to know Sebastian would always find him.

But could he likewise always find Sebastian?

If Sebastian really wanted to hide…

Pushing the post aside, Ciel rose from his desk and ventured into the corridor. _Not like Sebastian to neglect to go over the day’s schedule_ , he thought. Perhaps the butler had been so thrown by Ciel’s odd conduct that he forgot.

But no, Sebastian never forgot anything.

What was he up to then?

Ciel knew he could ring for the butler and ask directly. He could summon Sebastian and reprimand him for failing to deliver his daily schedule. It was unusual, and therefore entertaining, to catch Sebastian out in an error, intentional or otherwise. But _more_ entertaining would be to figure it out for himself. To never be where Sebastian expected him to be. Not quite hide and seek—Ciel would be found without difficulty—but enough to exasperate the demon and take him out of his complacency.

To yank the chain, as it were.

Ciel wandered downstairs. Where would Sebastian be most surprised to find him? The kitchen? No, Ciel did sometimes go there in search of sweets or to give instructions regarding what he wanted for mealtimes. The garden? But Ciel often sought fresh air on nice days.

And then he realized it. The place Sebastian spent the least amount of time and the one place he would never expect Ciel to go.

The servants’ quarters were deserted as the staff were all at work. Still, Ciel proceeded with caution until he came to the door of Sebastian’s room. Inside, the space was tidy and impersonal, but Ciel’s nose began to tingle almost immediately. Equally quickly, furry creatures began to slink out from under the bed, stretching and mewing and coming to wend around Ciel’s ankles.

Cats.

Of course there were cats.

Ciel sneezed once, twice, thrice in rapid succession. He couldn’t stay here. Where else could he hide?

None too gently nudging the beasts away, he slipped back out of the room and leaned against the door to think. Difficult to do with cats howling on the other side of the timber; Ciel could hear their claws digging into the wood.

“Young Master!” Mey-Rin’s voice rang down the corridor. “Are you looking for Mister Sebastian? He’s in the kitchen, last I saw.”

The maid stopped in front of him, a stack of freshly laundered towels in her arms.

“No,” Ciel told her. “But if he asks, tell him I went outside for some fresh air.”

“Oh! You’ll be back in time for tea, will you?”

Ciel waved away her question, intent on a new destination.


	6. Chapter 6

Thump. Thump.

Sebastian paused in making the fondant to listen as the sound made its way up the stairs. Was Finny running in the house again?

Thumpthumpthumpthump.

No, that particular gait belonged to _Bocchan_. So why was _he_ running in the house?

_This is the natural result of sharing his bed; now the boy is out of sorts._

Sebastian sighed and went on with his work. The young master would surely show himself for tea and hopefully settle as the day wore on.

***

Mey-Rin’s stack of towels had given Ciel an idea. He hated baths. Therefore Sebastian would never think to look for him in the bathroom. With any luck, all the soaps and lotions would partially disguise his scent besides.

Ciel entered the room and locked the door behind him. Then unlocked it. If anyone found it locked, they would know he was in there. But if anyone entered, they would also know he was in there…

He looked around the spotless room. Nowhere to hide except… the tub? If he laid down in it, someone simply looking in might not see him.

Lying there, Ciel began to wonder. How long before anyone noticed his absence? Would Sebastian be worried? Annoyed? Nothing ever seemed to perturb the damn creature. What would it take?

That wasn’t strictly true, Ciel mused. He had seen Sebastian surprised, curious, even confused on occasion. But always that layer of contempt, and that detachment that suggested that—though interested on a surface level—he could not, on the whole, be bothered in becoming too involved with human affairs. The exception, of course, being Ciel’s affairs. Sebastian was contractually obligated to be involved with those.

And if things were otherwise? Would Sebastian be as disinterested in Ciel as in everyone else?

But he had come to Ciel, not anyone else…

Ciel was so lost in these thoughts, he had no idea how much time had passed until his stomach growled to remind him of tea time. The back of his head ached from resting on the cold, hard porcelain of the tub, so he sat up. No one had missed him after all.

Disappointment turned to anger. He was the master of the house. The servants’ first priority should be—

The bathroom door opened then, and Sebastian wheeled in the tea cart.

“What are you doing?!” Ciel demanded.

Sebastian froze and blinked in his mock innocent way. “It is tea time, young master.”

“Why are you bringing it in here?”

The butler tilted his head. “I would not want to delay your tea. You have been in here all morning, have you not?”

Ciel clenched his fists. “If you knew that all this time, why did you not come find me?”

Sebastian made a show of looking around the room. “Were you lost?” And when Ciel threw his head back and growled with frustration, “Are you stuck there? Do you need help climbing out?”

“No!” Ciel shot to his feet and nearly slipped. “Take the tea down to the conservatory. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

With a small bow, the butler said, “As you wish, young master.” But as the demon pulled the cart out of the room, Ciel was almost certain he heard him mutter, “All morning in the bath, and no cleaner for it.”

 _There’s no getting clean for me_ , Ciel thought. _You of all creatures should know that._

Sebastian paused and lifted an eyebrow. “An unclean spirit is no excuse for an unclean body.” And before Ciel could register that his servant had responded to his unspoken thoughts, the bathroom door swung closed.


	7. Chapter 7

Ciel found Tanaka waiting to serve him in the conservatory. “Where is Sebastian?” Ciel snapped.

If the tone upset Tanaka, it didn’t show. “He asked me to attend you, young master.”

“Why? Where is he?”

“He did not say, and it was not my place to ask. He did tell me to remind you of your dancing lesson this afternoon.”

 _Ah_ , Ciel thought as he sipped his tea, _I will see Sebastian then_. The butler enjoyed supervising Ciel’s various lessons, if only to irritate him with unspoken criticism and contempt. Well, wasn’t that the purview of demons? In the meantime, Ciel devoted his energy and attention to his chocolate cake.

But when he arrived in the ballroom to greet his dancing instructor, Sebastian was not in evidence. The lesson went forth dismally, Ciel unable to concentrate, until he finally ended it early to save his teacher’s feet from further abuse.

Ciel spent the remainder of the afternoon haunting the manor. Sebastian was not in the kitchen, nor in the outdoor environs. None of the other servants could say they had seen him since that morning, and their haphazard guesses as to where Sebastian might have gone proved useless. Dusting the library? No. Pressing the laundry? No. Cleaning windows? No. Provisions were delivered, so Sebastian would not have gone out to do any shopping for the larder, either. Ciel went so far as to check the butler’s room, going there an unprecedented twice in one day, but he was chased out by a furry mob of mewling cats intent on climbing his legs. _He probably trains them to do that. Guard cats._

The idea was so unexpected and absurd that Ciel giggled, though he was quick to cut his mirth short. Sebastian’s defection was serious, and as Ciel ventured back upstairs, he began to consider the possible punishment he might mete out for it. He was just entering his study when a terrifying new thought struck him: Did this mean Baldroy was making dinner?

In Ciel’s mind, the severity of Sebastian’s punishment increased.

Ciel went to the window and stared down at the lawn as the late afternoon shadows crawled across the grass. He was too fidgety to concentrate on work. “Sebastian,” he muttered. If he shouted it, the demon might appear, but something in Ciel wished to catch the creature rather than summon him.

The air in the room fell still. There was no sound. Ciel gazed out until he felt almost as though he’d been lulled into a stupor. And then came the slightest burst of air to tickle his ear.

“Boo.”

Ciel’s shoulders twitched, but he made a point of turning his head slowly so as not to wholly show his surprise.

“Do you want to try again to hide, young master?” Sebastian asked.

“You… were playing hide and seek?”

“Is that not what you intended?”

“Where were you?” Ciel demanded.

Sebastian blinked, looking momentarily disconcerted, then smiled slyly. “I cannot give away my hiding places.”

Ciel studied him, but he couldn’t interpret the demon’s expression, his posture—all the nuances that Ciel might have used in reading a person were absent, either because Sebastian didn’t know how to act entirely human or because he knew too well how to hide his intentions. Possibly both.

“You failed to attend me at tea,” Ciel said, “and you missed my dancing lesson. I wasted all afternoon looking for you.”

Sebastian cocked his head. “It did not amuse you?”

Ciel opened his mouth to declare it most certainly had not and realized that to say it would be untrue. The exercise had, in fact, been most diverting. Still…

“If you’ve left Baldroy to make dinner…”

“I assure you, young master, dinner is well in hand. _My_ hand.”

Ciel eyed him. “I never gave you permission to be absent from your duties.”

“Is not entertaining you one of my duties?”

Ciel snorted. “Entertain my guests, not me. I have enough to do.” He cast a baleful glance at his paper-strewn desk.

“It is beneficial for one to have respite from such things now and then,” said Sebastian.

“I’ll decide that,” Ciel informed him. “And I’ll decide what to do with you after dinner.”

Sebastian sketched a bow. “Then I shall be sure it is of the highest quality.”


	8. Chapter 8

His goal had been to divert his young master’s thoughts from whatever had disrupted them. (It could not have been the post; the boy had barely touched it, and his strange behavior had begun well before perusing what correspondence he had bothered to open.) Sebastian was used to Bocchan testing his limits, but heretofore those tests had always consisted of quick feints and equally swift retreats. Yet the night before… and the entirety of the present day… had proved a constant, extended trial. If Sebastian could not push the boy back onto his rails, or distract him with some other interest, said trial might continue indefinitely.

Well, no, not indefinitely.

Eventually, the boy would break.

To have tended the dish so carefully only to have it burn… would be a tragedy.

Sebastian returned to the kitchen, where the mulligatawny warmed on the hob and the roast capon was well under way. The blancmange, too, had sufficiently chilled—a dessert meant to contrast with all the chocolate _Bocchan_ had consumed with his tea. Only the vegetables remained to be prepared.

 _Do with me?_ Sebastian mused as he chopped carrots and asparagus. This was the tightrope, of course—the tense wire upon which everything depended. He had contracted himself to this arrogant, moody, and yet somehow also terribly needy child. He had promised to follow the boy’s orders, and it naturally followed that he would also be required to accept punishments. Though, honestly, children with even a little bit of power were often far worse than kings and emperors. Equally stubborn but more erratic and as likely to weep as scream.

Though _Bocchan_ did not cry nearly as much as one might expect. The little tyrant laughed at pain, his own as much as anyone else’s. And he enjoyed inflicting it, as though to do so reduced his personal reservoir. One day, however, _Bocchan_ would discover pain did not work as an equal exchange. That to inflict it was not the same as handing a heavy stack of books to someone else. It did not lessen the load.

Or maybe he wouldn’t live long enough to learn that particular life lesson.

Should the young master begin to develop compassion—worse, regret—his soul might sour. Better to encourage his cold aloofness, his delight in crushing those who exercised power in dark places. Better, too, to foster his dependence on his butler. Even if that made Sebastian the target of so much anger, hate, and frustration. After all, those feelings would only build over time, like seasonings cooked into—

The roast! Sebastian removed it and began carving and plating. Young master would not tolerate a late dinner, not even by a minute. No question of punishment on that score.

It had been an odd day, to be sure. But perhaps, Sebastian considered as he carried the meal upstairs, it had been wrong to indulge _Bocchan_ in hide and seek; that had only made things more aberrant and seemingly increased whatever dissonance plagued the boy. Children needed strong boundaries; familiar restrictions, no matter how much a child might test them, made them feel safe. Broken barriers, on the other hand, frightened them by making the world unpredictable.

If Sebastian began to treat the evening as completely ordinary, might it become so? Humans were, after all, easily swayed by their environments and the power of suggestion.

By the time he presented his master with dinner, Sebastian was all reserve and stoicism. The boy darted looks at him now and again, gauging, but the butler kept his expression impassive. He should not have done anything to stir _Bocchan_ up so—a rare miscalculation on the demon’s part—now all he could do was become tranquil himself and hope the young master followed suit. As over the course of the meal _Bocchan_ seemed to relax, Sebastian had every expectation he had succeeded.

But then, tossing his napkin aside, the boy said, “As punishment for your outrageous behavior today, you will stay in my room again tonight.”

The boundaries, Sebastian began to believe, were under full assault.


	9. Chapter 9

“I am not sure why young master would view it as a punishment,” said Sebastian. “Unless last night was also meant as such?”

“Last night I did not know I was keeping you from your cats.”

Ciel was gratified by the butler’s fleeting expression of surprise. But quickly enough, Sebastian recovered. “I do hope you will at least allow me to feed them.”

Ciel waved him off. “And change into appropriate night clothes. I’ll be in my study, finishing with the letters your antics prevented me from reading earlier.” He watched the butler closely, but if the barb hurt at all, it didn’t show. Sebastian merely bowed and pulled Ciel’s chair from the table, allowing him to rise. By the time Ciel turned around, the demon was gone.

Ciel went to his study as planned, but though he fiddled with this envelope and that, he couldn’t be bothered to open any of them. Instead, he preferred to plan his attack. What could he say or do to get a reaction? But the more he thought about it, the more he realized what he really wanted were answers.

His yawns were growing more and more frequent, and he was in danger of nodding off where he sat, when the knock came and Sebastian entered. The butler carried the usual candelabra in his gloved hands, but he wore a dressing gown so dark a red it could be mistaken for black over what appeared to be a fairly simple white nightshirt. Ciel glanced down at the embroidered velvet slippers that matched the robe’s lapels. He tried to think of something clever and biting to say but only yawned again.

“Shall I carry you to bed?” Sebastian asked.

“No,” Ciel grumbled. He pushed himself to his feet and swayed slightly.

“It may be that you do not sleep well with someone else in the bed,” the butler suggested.

“I’m only tired from running around looking for you all day.” Ciel stumbled over to where Sebastian waited by the door.

“A bath?”

“I spent plenty enough time in the bathroom today. I only want to go to bed.”

Ciel anticipated a protest, or at least a mild rebuke, but all he received was a slight frown of disapproval, and he wasn’t even sure he’d seen that much. The frown _might_ have been concern.

Sebastian followed Ciel to his room, all the while carrying the candles high enough to illuminate the way. Once there, Ciel collapsed onto the bed, though he made sure to allow his legs to hang over the side so that Sebastian could see to his shoes. The light shifted as the butler set the candelabra aside, and Ciel felt his shoes loosen. He thought about kicking but was too tired.

“Maybe I should hire a proper valet,” he said, then wished he’d sat up first so he could see Sebastian’s reaction to the suggestion.

No pause came in the removal of his shoes and socks. “I can find someone if you would like.”

“Mm.” He _wouldn’t_ like, of course. He’d only just gotten to the point where allowing Sebastian to touch him was tolerable. And Sebastian knew that, too.

“Lady Elizabeth will want a proper staff when you—”

“You know that’s never going to happen.”

Sebastian rose and leaned over him to unbutton his jacket. “You believe keeping them at a distance will protect them.”

“You’re saying it won’t?” Ciel gave the minimum required assistance to free his arms of his coat sleeves.

“I am only uncertain what you think you are protecting them from. Your work? Or their eventual loss of you?”

The tie came free, and Ciel’s neck suddenly felt wonderfully loose. He drew in a deep breath before answering. “All of it, I suppose. Do you disapprove?”

“Not at all, young master.” The shirt opened, and again Ciel pulled his arms in just enough to allow Sebastian to remove it. “But then, my kind are known to be selfish creatures.”

Ciel sat up and Sebastian drew back in equal measure. “You want to keep me to yourself?”

A corner of the butler’s mouth lifted. “I only wanted you to sit up so I could better undress you.”

With an irritated grunt, Ciel flopped back onto the bed, and Sebastian said with a sigh, “Though I can just as easily do it this way.”

“Sebastian…”

The trousers were none too gently tugged down his legs, leaving gooseflesh in their wake.

“What would you do if I released you?”


	10. Chapter 10

The room became so still and quiet, Ciel thought for a moment the demon had disappeared on the spot. But when he sat up on his elbows, Sebastian remained; having neatly folded Ciel’s day clothes and set them aside for cleaning, he was now extracting a nightshirt from the wardrobe.

“Remember that you are not allowed to lie,” Ciel said.

“I would devour your soul,” the butler said simply. 

“You could have done that—” He broke off as Sebastian approached. “I want the shirt from last night.”

Sebastian returned to the wardrobe.

“I suppose you love your cats more than me,” Ciel prodded.

The butler’s brows lowered. “Love? You have my loyalty, my skill, and my power at your disposal; what possible use would you have for love?” He found and withdrew the freshly laundered shirt. And when Ciel eyed it skeptically, Sebastian said, “I am able to hide from you and be efficient with my chores at the same time.”

Ciel snorted and looked away, as though unaffected by the demon’s earlier words. What use _did_ he have for love? It only made things more difficult. Love kept him from getting close to Lizzie—to anyone but the creature now buttoning him into the oversized shirt. Love is what drove him to avenge his…

No.

Sebastian was not allowed to lie, and Ciel demanded the same honesty from himself.

He did not love Lizzie. Even if he lived to a marriageable age, he could foster no joy in the prospect of making that kind of life with her, or anyone. He cared for her only as much as he had to; if she stayed away, it would be a relief. Ciel might say to himself that she deserved better, someone who would truly treasure her, but he could only agree with that a detached way. In truth, he did not care who she married or how happily she lived ever after.

And the loss of his parents? Ciel could summon no sorrow for that, either. Only anger. And that was not so much due to their deaths as to everything that came after. The things that had happened to _him_ were the roots of his revenge. If any kind of love drove him, it was love for himself.

Ciel startled as the eyepatch loosened and slipped from his eye. Sebastian placed it on the bedside table and turned down the bedclothes. As Ciel crawled toward the headboard, he said, “What if I commanded you to love me?”

“You can only command of me what is within my ability, young master. My kind are incapable of love. If, as it is said, God is love, and Hell is the absence of God, then it is by definition void of love.”

As Sebastian began to draw the covers over him, Ciel said, “You too.” And when the butler appeared nonplussed, Ciel clarified, “In the bed.”

“Ah.” Sebastian padded to the other side of the bed to blow out the candles. He kicked off his slippers and shed his dressing gown. Ciel watched and wondered how something so evil could also be so graceful. Then again, cats were much the same…

Could one be allergic to demons?

“But you do love cats,” Ciel insisted.

“I admire them. I enjoy them. Love is not required for passion or pleasure, young master.”

“And this isn’t Hell. Love does exist here.”

The demon’s eyebrows inched upward, his unspoken meaning quite clear: _Are you certain of that?_

And of course Ciel was not. Hell could exist on earth; he’d been there himself. A demon had also been there—maybe several, but only one that mattered. And maybe demons carried Hell with them wherever they went. Sebastian had rebuilt the manor… It was, therefore, infused with evil. Maybe love could not survive there.

And yet… Finny, Mey-Rin, Baldroy… When Ciel thought of their faces, they seemed happy and infused with, not just pleasure or happiness, but genuine love. For him, for Sebastian, for each other. It did not seem able to touch Ciel, but that did not make it invalid.

“Love _does_ exist here,” Ciel decided. “Stop standing there. Get into bed. I’m cold.”


	11. Chapter 11

Sebastian dutifully settled onto the bed, but when he reached to pull the bedclothes up, the young master said, “Your gloves.”

“Mm? Oh.” Sebastian paused to unbutton and remove them. After setting them aside, he lay down on his back and closed his eyes, just as he had done the previous night.

“Closer. I’m still cold.”

Sebastian opened his eyes only a sliver and side-eyed the brat without turning his head.

“I know you heard me.”

With a sigh, Sebastian obligingly turned onto his side to allow Ciel to nestle himself like a kitten against its mother. The mental image fleetingly pleased the demon, until the boy grabbed his hand and yanked his arm around him, as though to use it as additional cover. “If you need another blanket…” Sebastian began, but _Bocchan_ muttered into his chest, “You’ll do.”

This, the demon supposed, was the downside of making someone so entirely dependent on you.

Time ticked by, but though the child was quiet, his breath failed to fall into the even rhythm of sleep. And then he asked, “So there is a God then?”

“Several,” Sebastian acknowledged. “Some beings gain power through devotion.”

In the near silence, the demon could hear the soft scrape of the boy’s long lashes as they brushed against his nightshirt when he blinked. “If you had disciples, you could become a god?”

“I only need one.”

The boy lifted his head—Sebastian felt the point of his chin drive into his sternum—and looked into his eyes. Not with any amount of wonder, of course, but with suspicion and a little bit of irritation. “I am _not_ a devotee.”

“Of course not, young master.”

“And you are _not_ my sav—” But he thought better of the word he’d been about to say, and Sebastian noticed the blush in his cheeks as he ducked his head again.

“Quite the opposite,” the demon agreed. “If you pull my arm much more, young master, I will be on top of you.”

“I’m _cold_. And you’re always so warm.”

“I’m also very heavy. My natural form is larger than this body, therefore my density… It would be uncomfortable for you. But I can fetch another blanket.”

“No.” The word was muffled as the boy squirmed closer, pressing his face into the butler’s chest. Sebastian thought the child would have climbed inside him if he could.

With a cluck of disapproval, Sebastian tightened his arm, not to hold the boy close but to hold him still. “You must sleep.”

“I’m not…” The last of what he said was swallowed in a yawn.

Adopting a technique from dealing with his cats, Sebastian stroked first the boy’s hair, then extended the petting down the spine, though he stopped short of where the tail would normally be. And just like a cat, _Bocchan_ relaxed and stretched. The only thing he did not do was purr.

“Say meow,” Sebastian whispered.

“Shut up, you,” the boy mumbled, and a few minutes later was sound asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

A few ideas crystallized in Ciel’s mind as he drifted off—he’d often noted how, as he fell asleep, things sometimes became clear to him. In this instance, Ciel suddenly and vividly saw the thread that linked him to Sebastian, how Sebastian had taken him in like one of those stray cats, and how being treated like such a stray was not demeaning but loving. The hand on his back was similar proof of that love. And though the demon believed he was innately incapable of love, many people believed things that were not true, and this was just such a case.

_I don’t have to command him to love me. He loved me when he chose me._

Of course, Ciel was not as convinced of this when he awoke to the sound of the tea cart as Sebastian wheeled it in. Sitting up abruptly, Ciel understood this meant Sebastian had, at some point, left the bed. “I did not give you permission to—”

“You did not command me to stay, and I felt it was of primary importance to keep you on a regular schedule. Especially as having your agenda disrupted put you so out of sorts yesterday.”

“And whose fault was that?” Ciel snapped.

Sebastian’s only response was to bow a fraction in acknowledgement and proceed with making the tea. As it steeped, the butler went to the wardrobe and selected items, holding them up for Ciel’s approval. This was routine; Ciel would dismiss some options with a wave and nod assent at others until a complete ensemble was assembled. By that time, the tea was ready, and Ciel took a moment to drink some before Sebastian began to dress him.

“It’s good,” Ciel said, despite his desire to punish the butler with silence.

“A Rougui oolong courtesy of Mr. Lau,” Sebastian told him.

“A bribe? For what, I wonder.”

“Looking the other way on some of his business dealings. Arms.”

It took Ciel a brief moment to understand Sebastian was not saying Lau was dealing in arms (though he might well have been), but was instead giving an instruction. Ciel set the tea aside and put out his arms so Sebastian could trade the shirt he’d slept in for one more his size.

“You have a fencing lesson today…”

Ciel groaned.

“Which means Lady Elizabeth will likely visit…”

Ciel groaned again.

“And you have promised to go riding out with Sir Solomon this afternoon.”

“To hunt?”

Tie. Vest.

“He is hoping to gain permission to hunt on some of your land, yes.”

Trousers. Stockings.

Ciel caught the demon’s eye and smiled slightly. “I’m sure we can think of ways to change his mind about that.”

Sebastian smiled back as he laced Ciel’s boots. “Certainly, young master. We can dissuade him most thoroughly if that is your wish.”

Ciel’s lips stretched further at the mental image of Sir Solomon set running in terror at whatever his demon butler might devise. “Let’s do.” He stood to allow Sebastian to adjust his morning coat.

Then, finally, the eyepatch.

As Sebastian tied it into place, he said the only three words Ciel ever really needed to hear from him: “Yes, my lord.”

END


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